A Night to Remember If Only he Could
by TdeAlba
Summary: John wakes up hung over with a black eye and no memory of the night before. Wackiness ensues as he tries to find out how he got it.


**Author's Note: **This bit of Jolie fluff written as part of a plea bargain to avoid persecution… er… prosecution that is for crimes against Jolie (relating to my violation of incapacitation limits). I realize Dana ordered a new chapter, but I thought perhaps this would be more fitting penance. I also realize it was ordered on Saturday, but I was sadly preoccupied with pesky details I'd let slide in the name of my thesis (laundry, cooking, other classes, sewing…). Not thrilled with the title or ending, but hopefully you'll enjoy.

**Timeline: **Originally posted on the Yahoo groups April 26, 2006. Diverges with the show there.

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He felt the pain as soon as he tried to open his eyes. Like an ice pick to the temple. Ouch. How much had he drunk the night before? He let his eyes close again, planning to sleep it off a little longer but slowly something entered into his consciousness. He could feel warmth on the left side of his body—someone was lying beside him.

Shit.

Not good, not good. Never good to wake up with someone beside you and not know who it is.

Forcing his eyes open he tried to turn his head without groaning. A smear of red hair gradually came into focus and he was suddenly wide awake. It was Natalie. He debated inwardly whether this was much better or much worse than waking up beside a stranger for a long moment before he realized she was on top of the covers and fully clothed. Probably nothing had happened. But what was she doing there?

A quick check of himself confirmed that he was in his underwear and he wondered how that had happened. As quietly and gently as he could he slipped out of the bed—she didn't stir. He discovered the pants he'd been wearing the night before neatly draped on the back of a chair, so it was a good bet he hadn't put them there; he wouldn't have had the presence of mind to be neat about it. It took him a minute to find his shirt; it was in the laundry basket he only vaguely remembered having.

He looked at Natalie still peacefully asleep on his bed and mentally smacked himself. If the pain in his temple wasn't enough reminder of the dangers of binge drinking, the knowledge that she had undressed him and he couldn't even remember it—well that was enough to make him swear off whiskey forever.

He staggered to the bathroom in search of aspirin and realized that his left eye was purple and swollen. What had he gotten himself into the night before? He leaned forward to splash some water on his face and when he straightened up he jumped seeing her reflection standing behind him.

"I'd imagine you probably feel as bad as you look right now," she said.

He tried to smile at her reflection, but it hurt. "Could you at least do me a favor and tell me the other guy looks worse?"

She smirked at him as she folded her arms across her chest. "It wasn't a guy and if you say I look worse than you, I'll blacken the other eye."

"You did this?" he asked motioning to his face.

She nodded, looking quite pleased with herself.

"Can I ask why?" he asked, turning around and leaning back against the sink.

She studied him for a minute. "You don't remember."

It was more of a statement than a question, but he scanned his memory anyway. The night before was a jumble of sounds and images: he remembered their fight earlier in the day and the one with Bo. He remembered going to Rodi's and he remembered drinking. But he couldn't even remember Natalie showing up so he must have been tanked before then. "No," he said finally, "I'm sorry, I don't remember much about last night.

She made a little noise that sounded like, "Hrmpf," and disappeared from the bathroom door.

He followed her out into the bedroom area, "Well whatever I did, it couldn't have been _that_ bad if you were still willing to bring me back here."

"Don't read too much into it McBain," she warned, "It was only after much pleading from your brother. And I felt kind of obligated. I don't often knock people out so-"

"You knocked me out?" he asked skeptically.

"I suspect I was just the final push over the edge. Really I'm sure the alcohol was mostly responsible." He watched her straightening the sheets and collecting her shoes without looking at him. Just watching the way she moved he could tell she was mad at him. Shouldn't it be the other way around? He was the one who'd been punched. Somehow he suspected he deserved it. If only he knew why.

"Well whatever I did to prompt that," he said, "I'm sorry."

Natalie let out an exasperated sigh. "No you're not," she said, "You have no idea what it was. You can't be sorry if you don't even remember what you did."

"Why don't you tell me then?" he suggested, "instead of storming around mad at me for something I don't even remember doing."

She stared at him for a moment then said, "Get dressed. You can buy me breakfast and I'll think about it."

The morning sun did nothing for the pain in his temples and the mingled smells of bacon and plantains as they walked into the diner made his stomach lurch. He was concentrating so hard on keeping himself steady that he didn't even notice Michael standing by the counter waiting for take-out until he spoke.

"Hey you two!" Why did he have to sound so cheerful? "Didn't expect to see you up and about so early after last night."

"What are you talking about?" John grumbled.

Michael shot a quizzical look first at John then at Natalie. "He doesn't remember last night," she explained as she slid into a booth. John sank down across from her.

"You don't?" he asked in surprise. John shook his head then gripped the table, the motion making the nausea worse. "I knew you were gone," Michael continued, "but I didn't think you were that bad. You don't remember anything?"

"I remember going to Rodi's and then I remember waking up this morning," he said.

"So you don't remember getting that shiner?" Michael said with a laugh.

"Or _why_ he got it," Natalie said tersely. Someone, he didn't see who because the light was too bright for him to look up, filled two cups of coffee on the table. The normally appealing smell only increased the churning of his stomach.

"You haven't told him?" Michael asked.

"Not yet," she said.

A waitress walked by with a plate of scrambled eggs. He gagged. This was not going to work. John managed to murmur some approximation of "Excuse me" before rushing to the bathroom.

"You're gonna tell him, right?" Michael asked watching John's flight with amusement.

"Haven't decided," she said.

"You're not waiting for him to guess, are you?" he asked sitting down in John's seat. "'Cause I can pretty much guarantee he won't."

"That's not what I'm doing," she grumbled.

"Then why haven't you-"

"Look," she said glaring at Michael, "how long did he make me wait? If I make him squirm a day or so before telling him why I decked him-"

"Good morning sis!" Rex said suddenly sitting down beside her. "No need to thank me, no need to thank me."

"For what?" she asked, turning the angry look to him.

"Well you look pretty tired," he said knowingly, "I'm guessing you had a long night last night."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Long as in couldn't sleep for fear the drunk man next to me would choke on his own vomit."

"Oh," he said suddenly sympathetic.

"So…" Michael said slowly, "Nothing happened, you know, after I left you two alone."

Natalie shook her head, "Your brother spent some quality time with the porcelain goddess after which I helped him out of the disgusting clothes and into bed, before cleaning up and going to sleep _on top_ of the covers."

Michael grinned suddenly at Rex, "Okay, pay up."

Rex groaned and reached for his wallet. Natalie looked between the two of them in horror. "You made a bet on us!"

Michael shrugged, "Well Rex here was pretty convinced that you two were going to wind up with some sort of happy reunion and I said I thought that John had drunk a little too much for that to even be possible."

"My life is a freaking joke," she said burying her head in her hands.

"No, not your life," Rex assure her, "Just… y'know your relationships."

"I feel so much better," she groaned.

"But seriously, Natalie," Michael said, "I'm just saying don't drag this out too long. You and John have enough legitimate issues to deal with to let something like this get in the way."

"You don't think this is a legitimate issue?" she scoffed.

"I think there are plenty of girls out there that would consider it romantic," he said.

"Well maybe John should go find one of them," she grumbled without making eye contact.

"Natalie," Michael scolded gently, "we both know that's the last thing you want him to do."

"Okay, when did you become the John and Natalie cheering section?" she asked as she took a sip of her coffee, "I remember when you didn't want me anywhere _near_ your brother."

He thought it over for a minute. "Well, I thought John was more sane with Evangeline. And he was. I've just figured out that sanity and love don't have much to do with each other. Or sanity and happiness. Particularly when it comes to my brother."

"Plus he wanted to keep you single," Rex said, "He and Marcie were on the outs and it never hurts to have an extra redhead in reserve."

Michael rolled his eyes as Natalie quipped, "You speak from personal experience?"

He shrugged. "Meh. I was never too particular about hair color."

"Or age," Michael pointed out.

"Or marital status," Natalie added.

"Yeah, yeah," Rex groaned as John returned from the bathroom, his eyes red and watery.

"Feel better?" Michael asked.

John shook his head, "Not really."

"You're dehydrated," he said, "You need to drink water."

John grunted some sort of response as Rex studied his face. "That's a good one, Nattie," he said indicating John's black eye.

"Thanks," she said with a hint of a smile over the rim of her coffee mug.

Turning to John, Rex added, "And I'd just like to say I feel bad about my part in this."

"You had something to do with this?" he asked squinting at Rex, trying to remember seeing Rex the night before.

In response to Rex's look of confusion, Natalie said, "He doesn't remember what happened."

Rex laughed. "Okay man, if you were in trouble before you are _screwed _now."

"Would someone just _tell_ me what happened?" John groaned.

"It should really be Nattie's place," Rex said trying to stifle a laugh.

John looked hopefully at Natalie but she just met his gaze steadily over her coffee cup.

The door to the diner swung open and Marcie appeared in a burst of nervous energy. "Michael, I thought you were going to bring the food-" she stopped seeing John's face and covered her mouth to hide a smile as she said, "oh."

"Sorry," Michael said, "I got a little sidetracked."

Still staring at John, Marcie giggled, "You know, Michael told me, but I didn't expect it to look that bad."

"You've obviously never seen Natalie throw a punch before," Rex said sounding more than a little proud of his older sister.

"Does everyone in town know what happened to me last night besides me?" John asked in a voice loud enough to remind him he had a headache.

Marcie raised an eyebrow, "He doesn't-?" Michael shook his head. "Well why hasn't someone told him?"

"Because Natalie's having too much fun torturing him," Michael explained.

Marcie thought about this, "I can kinda understand why, but-"

"Well I can't," Michael said, "I mean it was funny for about five minutes, but why are you dragging this out?"

"You know I have a theory on you two," Rex said before Natalie could answer, "I don't think you guys really want to get back together."

"Rex have you watched them?" Michael asked incredulous.

"I have," he said, "and I think neither one of you wants to work things out 'cause then you'd lose the opportunity to give each other those angst filled looks from across the room."

"We do not-" Natalie started to protest before John interrupted her.

"Yeah we do," he said glumly, "I mean, your theory's wrong about wanting to work things out, but the thing about the looks-"

"Okay, yeah, we do that," Natalie conceded.

The door swung open again and a heavily accented voice said, "Hey! There are the two lovebirds!"

"You better be talking about Michael and Marcie," Natalie grumbled as Roxy leaned over the closed side of the booth.

Roxy turned to Rex, "I thought you said-"

"Seems my speculation was a little off," Rex explained, "Nattie's a little upset."

"Why?" Roxy asked. "I mean come on, Nattie, you should be celebratin'. Rumor has it not so long ago Evangeline Williamson woulda given her right teeth to get Johnny to say those words to her."

John's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"Roxy could you please be quiet?" Natalie asked.

John turned to her, "That's what this is about? You're mad at me because I said…"

Natalie gave him a defiant smile. "Can't say it sober, can you?"

Ignoring her question he said, "You punched me because I told you that-"

"No John," she said sharply, "You didn't tell _me_ that you loved me. You told _Rex_ that you loved me. You told half of _Llanview_ that you loved me. You screamed it across the bar like it was some sort of curse-"

"Okay, okay," he said holding up his hands to stop her, "can someone just tell me the whole story?"

"You were pretty drunk by the time I showed up," Michael explained. "I tried to get you to go home but you wouldn't listen, so I called Natalie, thinking maybe she could talk some sense into you."

"But when I got there you were just a standoffish jerk and didn't want to hear anything I had to say," Natalie continued. "And that's when Rex got involved."

"I kinda got in between the two of you and told Natalie you weren't worth the effort," Rex explained, "and then you told me to butt out, but I kinda got in your face and asked why you couldn't just leave Natalie alone… and that's when…"

"That's when you said it," Michael said.

"And what exactly did I say?" he asked.

"I think you opened with the phrase, 'Because I love her damn it'," Rex said.

"After which you turned to the rest of the room, just in case anyone _hadn't _heard you and repeated it," Natalie said.

"Yeah," Michael said, "you said something along the lines of 'That's right everyone, just in case there was any confusion, I love Natalie Vega.'"

"Which isn't even my name anymore!" Natalie interjected.

John met her eyes, "And this pissed you off so much you punched me."

"Knocked you on the floor," she said calmly.

"The thought of me loving you upsets you that much?" he asked.

"_That_ wasn't the issue," she explained. "I mean come on John, I've been in love with you for years, obviously I-"

"Still?" he asked, cutting her off.

"What?"

"Do you still…?"

Flustered and caught off guard she stammered, "Yeah." Looking around at the suddenly quiet table full of people staring at her she added, "Oh come on, is there anyone here who honestly didn't know that already?"

John raised his hand halfway and she narrowed her eyes, "You've got one good eye left, McBain, and if you want to keep it, stop being a smart ass."

"I've had my doubts," he shrugged, "I've been on the receiving end of some pretty icy glares lately. Though if I'm to believe your brother it was just foreplay so-"

"If I may," Marcie said stepping in, "John, I don't think the problem was _what _you said, but _how_ you said it."

"But she _is_ kinda blowing it out of proportion," Michael said.

"Michael!" Marcie scolded, "Things like that are important to girls. You want the first time a guy tells you he loves you to be special. To be private and romantic. Not a drunken brawl."

"There was no brawling," Rex clarified, "Just Nattie nearly taking his head off with her fist."

"And let's not forget the fact that you had to get toasted beyond belief to say it," Natalie added, "I mean it's a wonder you didn't declare your undying love for Rex at that point."

"But I'm not in love with Rex," he replied blankly.

"That's reassuring," Rex said under his breath.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said staring past the defensive look in her eye, "you're right, I messed up and I wish I could take it back-"

"I knew it!" she said almost triumphantly, "I knew as soon as you were sober you would start backtracking and-"

"Would you let me finish?" he interjected. "I didn't mean take back the words, just… the way it all happened."

"So you don't want to take back the words?" she asked.

"No," he said softly.

"Well can you say them now?" she asked leaning forward, "Stone cold sober, can you say it?"

Wishing the audience would disappear, but knowing that wasn't likely he took both her hands in his.

"Good thinking, Johnny," Roxy said, "hold 'em tight so she can't hit you again."

"Shut up, Roxy," Rex said.

"Natalie _Buchanan_," he said emphasizing that he did, in fact, know her name, "I love you."

"Really?" she asked her eyes suddenly misting over.

"Yeah, I think we all knew that one too," Michael said patting his brother on the shoulder. "You ready to go Marce?"

"Yeah," she said smiling at the couple now oblivious to everything but each other's eyes.

As Michael and Marcie disappeared, Rex rose and grabbed Roxy by the arm, "We have to go too. We're gonna be late for the thing."

"Thing?" Roxy asked, "What thing?" Catching the meaningful look in her son's eyes she then said, "Oh the _thing_! Yeah, we gotta go."

"You want me to say it again?" John asked the still mute Natalie.

"No, I'm good," she said leaning a little closer.

"'Cause I will," he offered, leaning in to kiss her. A moment before their lips would have met, she jerked back suddenly, a look of disgust washing over her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "not until you brush your teeth. Your breath is _really_ awful right now."

"Yeah," he said with a smile, "sorry about that too. We could um… head home. Take care of that."

Natalie thought for a moment before smiling. "Yeah. Let's go take care of that." John put some money on the table to cover the cost of the coffee and they walked from the diner hand and hand. Suddenly blushing and shy with each other, yet somehow more intimately connected than ever before.

Fin.


End file.
